


"Rabbit Heart"

by BerylSpring



Series: The Lungs Series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abaddon Flunkies, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-adjacent, Case Fic, Dean Being Dean, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Being an Asshole, Demonic Possession, Drinking, F/M, Gambling, Hostage Situations, Inspired by Music, Kidnapping, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, POV Original Character, Series Spoilers, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerylSpring/pseuds/BerylSpring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riley Stone is working a case in Amherst Junction when she runs into Dean Winchester again.  What she doesn't know is that Dean has become a demon and is at the very center of her case.  What she doesn't know can hurt her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second installment in this series. I recommend reading the first entry before you proceed, however I have provided some recap in this narrative. The events take place one week before episode 10.1 “Black”.

**Amherst Junction, Wisconsin**

Riley Stone turned the key in the lock of door 12 of the Summit House and entered the room, looking around. The hotel was built in 1873 so it was placed on the historic register and couldn’t be torn down, but apparently there weren’t any rules about letting it rot away on its own. The peeling paint on the outside of the building should have been a sufficient preview of the condition on the inside, but it paled in comparison to the room she was currently standing in. The dusty, wood-plank floors looked original, but had not been kept up. She made a mental note not to walk around barefoot as the floor was splintered in a few dozen places. There was no overhead light, only a small table lamp next to the bed that barely illuminated a two foot radius around it, and a tall standing lamp in the far corner with a tattered shade. She walked over and pulled the cord to turn it on but the bulb flashed and burnt out immediately. She sighed, and walked over to the dresser, stopping to wipe a thin layer of grime off the top with the sleeve of her denim jacket, before dropping her bag down on it. Her eyes moved up to the outdated floral wallpaper that was lining the walls, except in the places where large chunks of it had either been torn or peeled off.

_That’s what you get when you spend twenty-five dollars a night on a hotel room_ , she thought before falling backwards onto the lumpy bed.

It was just about midnight, and she was tired. The drive from her apartment in Fremont, Ohio should have only taken about seven and a half hours, but there was an accident that held up traffic so it was more like nine. She laid there thinking about the last time she was on a hunt. A Cerberus had been rampaging through a small town in Indiana all helter-skelter, and she had no idea what she was up against. She had heard of Hellhounds, but she had never actually scuffled with one before. Luckily she met up with two other hunters, the famed Winchester brothers, and together they nipped the problem in the bud.

Hunters were a small, elusive group of rough-and-tumble characters who mostly worked by themselves like she did, or in small circles, but still word got around. Sam and Dean Winchester had become something of legend. Rumors about their exploits had either good or bad undertones according to the personal view of the hunter that was spreading it. Around the time she got started with hunting, the biblical Apocalypse was already well underway, and the Winchesters had played a huge role in it from beginning to end. When she ran into them on the case in Indiana, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of them, but Sam seemed sincere when he said a lot of what transpired had been out of their control, and just from the short amount of time she had spent working with them, she could tell their intentions were solid. They just wanted to kick evil’s ass like the rest of them.

And then, of course, there was her inadvertent attraction to Dean. She had to admit that was probably coloring her judgement of the boys a bit. He had accidentally shot her with rock salt, so her initial reaction to him wasn’t so pleasant, but she couldn’t help getting lost in his eyes. There was so much emotion swimming around behind them, determination, grief, pain, and something else…a pinch of danger. He had a rage inside of him too, and it burst out full-force when he had killed the Cerberus. It was both frightening and strangely alluring. Something was seriously wrong with her for thinking that way, and she should probably not get involved, but whenever she thought about him she would feel a rush of excitement.

That had been almost a month and a half ago, and since then, things had been kind of quiet. She had spent some time working some odd jobs in her hometown to make enough cash to pay the rent for her small studio apartment, but mostly she sat around waiting for something that needed killing. Keeping her eyes glued to the news finally paid off a few days ago, when a few people went missing from a small town in Wisconsin. The bizarre behavior that their family and friends described before they disappeared led Riley to believe that it might have been a case of demon possession. That’s why she ended up here in this fleabag hotel.

Feeling her eyelids become heavy, Riley decided to try and get a good night’s rest before investigating the disappearances in the morning. She didn’t even bother to change, or to get under the covers, instead she rolled over onto her side and curled up on the scratchy comforter. The image of Dean’s face projected in her mind’s eye was the last thing she saw before succumbing to the sandman.

When she woke up the next morning, she wiped the sleep from her eyes, yawned and rolled over to check out what time it was.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, as the clock read 10:30. She had forgotten to set an alarm and now she was going to get a later start than she wanted to.

After taking a shower and getting dressed in the black pantsuit that she wore when impersonating the law, she grabbed a fake ID out of her bag and put it in the inside pocket of her blazer. Her stomach growled, so she knew she would have to get something to eat before working the case. She didn’t really want to waste any more time, but she remembered seeing a diner a few blocks up where she could probably get a speedy breakfast.

While sitting in a booth by the window, eating her scrambled eggs and toast, she listened to her portable police scanner, the volume turned down so only she could hear it. Riley wasn’t sure what she was listening for, but around 11:15 a call came in about an incident at the Gas n’ Sip on the edge of town. A man was stabbed to death and the perp apparently just walked right out afterward as if nothing happened, leaving the teenage clerk to clean up the mess. There was something about a stolen porno mag too. She wasn’t sure what to think about that last part, or if the stabbing was anything more than a random act of human violence, but she figured it would be best to check into it.

Riley paid her bill, and downed the last, lukewarm gulp of her coffee before heading over to the Gas n’ Sip. She waited until the police cleared out before going in herself. No need running the risk that someone would call her out as a fake. The teenager and his boss were busy mopping up the blood that the crime scene investigator left behind as she walked over to them and pulled out her badge.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she greeted them in her best professional voice, “can I have a word with you about the incident?”

The older man, who identified himself as the store’s owner, impatiently stated that they already spoke with the police about it. He wanted to know why he had to rehash the information again.

“Just following up,” Riley offered, “I like to corroborate the story with my partner so we can make sure we have all the information we need.”

After talking to the kid, she determined that something strange had definitely occurred there. It sounded like the man who did the stabbing was doing so in self-defense, but the police had already taken the security footage, so she couldn’t take a look for herself. The way the teen described how calm he was, however, was raising a red flag. It was worth continuing the investigation.


	2. Chapter 2

The remainder of the day was uneventful. She stopped in to the police station after swapping out her police ID for her FBI one to see if she could get a look at the surveillance video, but the detective working the case informed her that the footage was corrupted and had to be sent out to be fixed. Of course it was! Why would any case she’s working be easy? He told her to come back in a few days when they would get it back from the lab. Afterwards, she went to talk to some of the families of the missing persons, but it only confirmed the big fat nothing she had to go on. Maybe her hunch was wrong. Maybe the gas station thing was just a random coincidence.

When night came, she decided she needed a drink. There was a dive bar not too far from her hotel that she could walk to, which was good, because then she could drink all she wanted and not have to drive back. Hell, maybe she’d find a handsome stranger to hook-up with for the night. Being a hunter meant leading a lonely life. Sometimes she just craved some no-strings-attached contact.

With that in mind, she slipped into a comfortable pair of dark-denim skinny jeans that hugged her hips just right, her favorite maroon and black paisley, lightweight cotton cami that swung out ever-so-slightly from the waistline, and pulled on her favorite black cowboy boots that were soft and comfortable from years of wear. She normally didn’t put on too much make-up, but when she went out she would do up her eyes a bit with a little bronze eyeliner to make the blue color pop. Guys always fell for her baby blues. She pulled her jet-black hair down from the clip that held it in place, letting it fall in soft waves to her shoulders, and smeared on a bit of lip gloss to finish off her look before heading to the bar.

The Rusty Nail was pretty crowded already considering it was still early, but then again, what else is there to do in a small town like this. Across the dimly lit room, she spotted an empty seat at the bar which she claimed and ordered herself a bottle of beer. She actually wanted some of the harder stuff, but she thought it best to start out slow and build up. When the bartender handed it to her, she spun the bar stool around and leaned back against the bar, one arm across the top, and sipped her beer as she surveyed the room. To the left near the entrance and against the wall, there was an old jukebox playing Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Saturday Night Special” and right in front of it was a small area where the desperate, trashy girls were shaking what they had for a few pervy onlookers. There were a couple of patrons sitting at the sparse bar tables in front of her and further behind them along the blacked-out windows facing the street were a handful of booths, the brown vinyl seats a bit torn. She kept scanning to her right and her eyes rested on a set of pool tables, the sound of solids and stripes clacking together echoed over the music. There was some betting going on at the table closest to her, and she absent-mindedly watched as one of the players leaned over to take his shot. His back was to her, so she got a nice view of his ass when he bent over. She found herself smiling a little. It was a great view.

The guy with the nice butt sunk his shot and the other player groaned and handed over some cash before walking away. When the winner turned around, Riley’s eyes widened, and she choked a little on her beer. Dean Winchester leaned up against the pool table counting his money. It took her a minute to compose herself; she never expected to see him so soon, especially here. Her instincts must have been right. There must be a case here. What were the chances that she would run into the Winchesters again? Not that she wasn’t glad to see them, but it was certainly a strange coincidence.

She was about to get up and greet him when a short, middle-aged man with a receding hairline began talking with him. She wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, but judging by the snarky look on Dean’s face he wasn’t having whatever it was other guy was talking about. The older man looked as if he gave up, and he headed out the exit. When she turned her attention back to where Dean had been, he was gone. She glanced around the room trying to find where he went, but he was nowhere in sight. He must have slid out another exit.

Chugging the last of her beer and throwing a ten spot on the bar, she headed back outside to see if she could catch up with him. She looked left and right down the sidewalk but didn’t see anything but a few locals having a smoke outside the bar. Deciding to head towards the main intersection at the corner, she made her way past the noxious, second-hand fumes. Still no sign of Dean, Riley continued to walk around the building and when she reached the back corner her ears perked up at the sound of a scuffle.

The alleyway behind the bar was dark and filled with overflowing trash receptacles from the businesses that connected to it. The fetid smell of day old garbage turned her stomach, but she could make out four shadowy figures up ahead engaged in some kind of tussle. She proceeded down the alley, ready to fight, in case it was Dean and he needed her help. When she reached them one had already fallen, and she saw Dean knock a second one down with ease. He seemed pretty relaxed considering he was being jumped by three, well now two, demons. He hadn’t even broken a sweat and it looked like he had it handled, so she waited in the shadows, not wanting to distract him and get him hurt. One of the demons said something about an Abaddon…whatever that was… before charging at Dean with a metal blade. With a smile on his face he evaded the attack with ease, and watched as the demon fumbled to regain his footing.

“Aren’t you guys tired of losing yet?” Dean asked, as he stared the guy down.

The other one came barreling up from behind him and managed to wrap his arms around Dean, restricting his movement so that his buddy could attack again. Riley rushed out of the shadows.

“Hey! Scumbags!” she yelled, all eyes turning towards her, even Dean’s.

The distraction gave Dean the advantage and he flipped the demon over his shoulder, pulling out that gnarly blade he had used on the Cerberus on the last hunt and shoving it into his belly, sparks of light crackling through the body. The other one rushed in her direction, but she had her own blade and shoved it into his throat. It stumbled backwards and Dean was ready with his which he stuck into the demon’s back setting off the fireworks again. _Man_ , Riley thought, _I have to get me a blade like that!_

Dean let the body fall to the ground and he wiped the blood off of his blade and stowed it back in his waistband. Then he reached down and pulled her knife out of the demons throat, again wiping it, and held it out to her. She stepped in closer and took it back from him.

“What are you doing here, Riley?” he questioned with a frown.

She scoffed, “Nice to see you too!”

He ignored her sarcastic reaction, “Did Sam send you?”

“What are you talking about? Isn’t Sam with you?”

He looked at her through slightly squinted eyes, trying to determine if she was telling him the truth, and after a few seconds his countenance mellowed out. His eyes looked her up and down approvingly.

Finally he said, “Well, I could use a drink,” and he walked past her without a second glance.

Riley stood there for a few seconds like a deer caught in the headlights, _what the hell is his problem?_


	3. Chapter 3

She made her way back into The Rusty Nail and scanned the room for Dean. He was standing at the end of the bar, two shots of what looked like tequila in front of him. One of them went down the hatch as she walked over to him, the other he slid in her direction when she reached the bar. Riley paused for a moment, looking from the shot back up to him.

“Drink,” he commanded, locking eyes with her.

She broke her focus and took a deep breath before tossing it back down her throat, wincing at the sting.

“That a girl,” Dean said before holding two fingers up to the bartender for another round.

Exasperated by his weird behavior, Riley pulled him from the bar and against the wall away from prying eyes and ears.

“What’s going on, Dean? Where’s Sam? And what the hell was that out in the alley?”

His eyebrows shot up as he looked down at her with a smirk on his face, “ _I’m_ trying to have a good time, Sam’s doing whatever it is he does back in Kansas, and those were demons out in the alley. We good now?”

He turned away from her to head back to the bar for his shots, but she pulled on his shoulder turning his attention back. She was about to rip him a new one when he forcefully pinned her up against the wall. A few of the people nearby turned to look, but Dean was focused solely on her.

“I don’t know why you’re here, and I really don’t care. You can stay here with me and have a couple of drinks, have a good time, or you can walk away, but I’m done answering questions tonight.”

There it was again, that darkness in his eyes. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the expression of unease off her face. She did manage to keep eye contact though, and after a moment Dean’s expression softened a bit and he released the tight grip on her shoulders, sliding his hands down her bare arms gently, lingeringly. The onlookers went back to what they were doing, satisfied that he wasn’t hurting her, and Dean turned and went back to the bar downing both the tequila shots that were waiting for him.

Okay, she needed a drink. A flurry of feelings were taking over her right now, confusion, anger, and that annoying little tickle deep in her gut that she got when she was turned on. How could she possible be turned on right now? He was being a jerk! She walked to the bar and ordered a whiskey, straight. The bartender poured it and handed it to her and she turned to look at Dean as she chugged it down. Slamming the glass down on the bar she kept her eyes locked on his.

“Put it on his tab,” she announced and walked away towards the main entrance.

Dean watched her go with a look of indifference and then turned back to the bar.

 

*****

 

The next morning she woke up with a splitting headache. She didn’t drink much last night, but she drank it too fast and the pent up tension that was coursing through her didn’t help either. Dean didn’t seem to be acting himself the night before, but then again she didn’t really know him that well. She had spent all of 24 hours with him previously, hell probably less than that, and what, now she thought she was an expert. For all she knew this could be his normal behavior!

One thing was for sure, she had to stop letting him affect her so much. She was here working a case, that should be her priority. Dean was a secondary matter, and he didn’t seem to need or want her assistance anyway. Judging by the events of last night, there definitely was a demon problem in town, and she was just going to do what she does. If she ran into Dean again, fine, she’d deal with him then, but until that happened she was on her own.

Riley spent the day going over all of the clues, which she had to admit wasn’t much to go on. The three demons she saw in the alley last night didn’t match up with any of the missing persons she was looking into. The one missing person that did match up was Drew Neely, but he was the _victim_ at the Gas n’ Sip, not the killer. She was sure Neely was the one that would’ve been possessed, but that scenario didn’t make sense unless…was Dean the one who killed him? After all she had watched him take down three others last night, but in broad daylight, in the middle of a convenience store with cameras on him? She would think he’d be smarter than that!

She let out a frustrated growl. This was exactly what she was trying to avoid! Now Dean seemed to be her only lead! Maybe she should just call Sam and let him handle it? No. She had to stop being such a timid little girl, put on her big girl panties, and find her courage. She could handle Dean. All she had to do was find him, and she knew exactly where to start.

The easiest thing to do was go back to The Rusty Nail and hope he was there. No luck on the day drinking scenario though, and when she talked to the bartender and some early bird patrons, no one seemed to know where to look for him. Fine, one down, two to go, she thought. This town was so small that there were only two places for out-of-towners to hang their hats, the Summit House where she was staying and the Mill Street Lodge. It was probably safe to say he wasn’t crashing in the same hotel as her, she hadn’t run into him there, and she didn’t remember seeing his car parked nearby either. The Impala was hard to miss. So she headed down to Mill Street to see if she could find it. It wasn’t parked on the street in front of the Lodge, but when she rounded the corner there it was, sitting in a small gravel lot reserved for hotel guests.

When she entered the lobby, she was relieved to see a young girl working the front desk. If Dean came through here, she definitely would have noticed. Riley walked up to her and described him.

“He’s about this tall,” she said as she held her hand up to demonstrate, “muscular, rocking a five o’clock shadow, pretty eyes?”

The girl smiled, she knew exactly who he was, “Yeah, I’ve seen him!”

“Would you be a dear and point me in the direction of his room?”

“Oh, I can’t do that,” the girl replied, “hotel policy. I can’t give out guests room numbers.”

Riley thought for a moment, “Oh, I understand, but he’s my fiancé and he’s out here on business. I didn’t think I could make it, but plans changed so I’m trying to surprise him. Do you think you could just help me out this once?”

The young girl looked down at her left hand for a ring, but Riley had already tucked it into her pocket in anticipation.

The girl smiled at her again, “Sorry, I just can’t. I can dial his room for you and get his permission.”

“No, no,” she said quickly, “that would ruin the surprise.”

Suppressing the urge to strangle the annoyingly, model employee, Riley pulled out her wallet and pushed a fifty dollar bill towards the girl with a wink. The girl looked around to make sure her boss wasn’t watching, pocketed the money, and leaned in to whisper “Room 23”. Riley begrudgingly thanked her and headed down the corridor to the stairwell. When she got to the second floor, she followed the numbers down the hall and stopped in front of his room.

It was only 10:30 in the morning, and if he had kept on drinking the way he was before she left last night, he was probably still asleep. She took a deep breath and knocked, lightly at first, and then after mentally kicking herself in the ass, once more, but louder. Listening carefully, she could hear the shuffling of feet on the other side of the door. There was a pause, presumably for him to look out the peephole, and then the door opened.

Dean stood in front of her, bare-chested, running his hand through his sleep tousled hair. Her eyes were drawn to the anti-possession tattoo on his left pectoral and then involuntarily shifted downward towards the elastic of the black, boxer-briefs hugging his hips.

“C’mon in, the bed’s warm,” he said gruffly as he watched her ogle him.

Riley swallowed hard, shaking her head to break herself out of her trance, and looked back up at his face. Not that it made any difference to the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach.

“I’m here on business,” she replied, trying desperately to sound collected, and failing miserably, “can you put some clothes on so we can talk?”

Dean found her request amusing, but he complied, pulling on a tight tee-shirt and his jeans from the night before that had been strewn on a chair in the corner of the room. After he dressed he gestured to the same chair, offering her a seat. He watched her like a hawk as she slowly crossed the room to sit in it. Trying to keep her composure, she kept her head down and started to ramble about why she was there.

“I’m here working a case. I got wind of some suspicious disappearances that seemed like demon possession could be at play, so I drove up here to check it out. I couldn’t really find anything until last night in the alley, which you seemed to have a handle on. But there was an incident at the Gas n’ Sip at the edge of town, that doesn’t seem to add up.”

She looked up at him, nervously, not sure if she should go on.

Dean could tell she was uneasy, “What do you want to know?”

Riley took a deep breath and let it tumble out, “Did you kill that guy at the gas station?”

She watched his face carefully for any tells, but his expression was set in stone. He just looked at her for a moment and then he answered her.

“Yes.”

“So he was a demon, right?”

He nodded.

Riley stood up and looked him in the eye, “Dean, what is going on? If what you’re saying is true then four demons have attacked you in the past 24 hours. Why?”

“Sweetheart, this is so above your pay grade,” he responded, “do yourself a favor and go home before you get in too deep.”

“I’m not a child, Dean, I’m a grown woman and I can handle myself. Just tell me what’s going on,” she pressed.

Before she knew what was happening, Dean had grabbed her arm and wrenched it behind her back at a painful angle, spinning her so he was behind her. She winced and cried out for him to let her go, but instead he pulled her closer, her arm now pinned between her back and his chest, his grip on her wrist tightening. She gritted her teeth to distract from the searing pain that shot up her shoulder and pleaded with him. Dean leaned in and lightly brushed his nose along the skin below her ear. Hovering there, she could feel his hot breath on her neck producing goosebumps on her flesh. He spoke softly in her ear.

“Do you see how easy it was for me to best you? If you don’t leave, you’re going to get hurt.”

With that, he let go of her with a slight push. Riley grabbed hold of her shoulder, trying to massage the pain away as she turned to face him. His eyes were boring into hers, the darkness seeping out of them again. He was looking at her like a wolf sizing up his prey, and he was dying to sink his teeth into her little, rabbit heart. This time she was scared. There was no attraction bubbling up for him at this moment. She just wanted to get out of there. Still bracing her shoulder, she slowly started backing away from him and towards the door.

“What’s the matter, Riley,” Dean taunted her, “I thought you could handle yourself?”

“I’m leaving. Just let me go.”

Dean slowly made his way towards her, and she quickly backed herself up against the wall, pulling out a knife from her boot. He stopped just short of her and smirked. His hand moved slowly past her to the door and he pulled it open for her. Staring at him for a long moment, she finally stowed her knife and slid out the doorway.

“See you around, sweetheart,” he said before shutting the door, leaving her alone in the hallway.

She took a moment to compose herself, and then headed towards the stairwell to the exit. She didn’t notice the demon that followed her out. When she stepped out of the hotel into the parking lot, there was a brief sensation of pain at the back of her head, and then nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

When Riley gained consciousness her head was still a little swimmy. Through blurred vision she could see a bare, dark room in front of her, but there seemed to be yellowed light coming from above her. She tried to look around but she couldn’t get her eyes to move where she wanted them. When she reached for the back of her head, remembering being hit by something, her arm didn’t move. She called out for help, but no sound escaped her lips. Panic set in as she tried with all her might to move, and finding herself paralyzed.

The sound of a heavy metal door opening reached her ears, coming from the darkness ahead. A large man walked toward her, and she tried one more time to jerk herself into motion, but to no avail. Then she heard herself speak.

“Did he get the message?”

It was her voice, but not her doing. _My anti-possession bracelet_ , she thought, forgetting she couldn’t look down at her wrist. The beast of a guy in front of her responded.

“He got it, he should be here soon.”

During the exchange, Riley had been furiously trying to take control of herself, but stopped when she heard her own voice chiding her.

“You’re not going to break free,” it said, “but don’t worry. Once we have the Winchester, I’ll let you go. A small mercy for letting me borrow your meatsuit.”

_What are you going to do to him?_

Her familiar laughter bubbled out of her mouth, “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll let you watch.”

She could see the movement of her own head nodding once, and then the other demon walked over to where she was sitting and began tying her down to the chair. _You’re using me for bait_ , she thought and the demon responded using her sarcastic voice, “Did you figure that out all by yourself? You get a gold star!”

When the guy was finished tying her up, he disappeared back into the shadows. Riley kept trying to fight for control, but there was nothing she could do but wait. It wasn’t long before Dean walked into the room. He moved towards her slowly, calculating every step. He wasn’t stupid; he would know it was a trap.

“I said you’d get hurt if you didn’t leave.”

“Dean, please, just help me,” the demon said in Riley’s voice. _Dean it’s not me, it’s a demon! Please, figure it out!_

He smiled and then turned from her, throwing his head back and calling out, “Alright, I see the bait! Where’s the trap?”

Silence filled the room.

“Olly olly oxen free!” he shouted watching the shadows, “C’mon you got me here…make a move! I’m dying to see what you got!”

Without a warning the big demon she saw before lunged into the spotlight, tackling Dean to the floor. He landed a few punches to Dean’s face, but stopped when the eldest Winchester began to laugh.

“Is that all you got, big guy?”

The demon’s face turned red with anger, and he pulled long silver dagger from his jacket, before shouting, “Long live Abaddon!”

As the dagger made its way down, Riley screamed out in her head, _No! Stop!_ But he was quick to counter and blocked the attack, landing a few punches himself and rolling out from under his attacker. She watched as the two struggled for dominance over each other, the heavier man making it harder for Dean to gain the upper hand. Until that blade of his came out. The demon hesitated upon seeing it, and it was a fatal mistake.

Standing up and turning towards her as if it were no sweat, Dean put up the knife and walked over to the chair, kneeling down in front of it to look her in the eyes.

“Thank God! Dean, please let’s get out of here,” her voice said, “Untie me please so we can go.”

_Don’t you dare, Dean! It isn’t me! Can’t you tell? I swear to God if you hurt him!_ Riley tried to claw and tear her way out, but it was useless. She couldn’t manipulate her own body. She watched in horror as he slowly began to untie the demon using her meatsuit. _I’ll kill you, you bitch!_

When her body was released it stood up and wrapped her arms around Dean’s neck, laying her head on his shoulder with a meek sounding, “Thank you!” Although she couldn’t feel anything, she knew Dean was lingering, holding on to her. _Don’t fall for it Dean! You know this isn’t me!_ Then she could see his face, their eyes gazing at each other, and he leaned in pressing his lips to hers in a heated kiss. The demon kissed back with _her_ lips and Riley was livid! Locked in her body, she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Dean broke away and turned to go, and Riley knew this is when the demon would make her move. She watched as her body propelled forward to pounce, but Dean was quick, and the demon recoiled as he splashed holy water on it. Riley winced, afraid it might hurt her, but she felt nothing. The demon recovered and began to laugh.

“You should hear her in here,” the demon pointed to her head and then mimicked her, “No! Stop! I swear to God if you hurt him! I’ll kill you…how pathetic! Sounds like she has a sweet spot for you, Dean.”

Dean, calm and composed, smiled at it, “Get out of her, bitch.”

“Or what? You can’t kill me without killing her,” the demon sounded pretty satisfied with itself.

“Well now, you got me there, don’t you,” Dean said with a smirk, before bringing his fist to her jaw.

Riley was thankful she couldn’t feel it now, but if she made it out of this alive, she was going to return the favor!

The demon wiped blood from Riley’s lip and smiled, “I didn’t see that coming, but I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“I’m giving you one more chance,” Dean said, as he pulled out his blade.

_Shit!_ Riley thought, _Dean that’ll kill me! What are you doing?_

“She seems genuinely worried that you’re gonna try and use that thing on her! But there’s a better way, Winchester.”

“I’m all ears!” he exclaimed, “Enlighten me.”

“Just wave that pretty white flag and I’ll let her go. Your life for hers.”

Dean pursed his lips thinking it over, “Interesting. There’s only one problem with that solution.”

The Demon tilted her head in curiosity, “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I don’t really care what happens to her,” he said coldly as he moved in with his fist coiled around the hilt of his blade, “I told her to get out of dodge, but she didn’t listen. She’s not my responsibility now.”

The demon hesitated, trying to call his bluff. _He’s going to kill us you moron!_ “You wouldn’t dare.”

She recoiled as she watched Dean lunge forward, but the demon threw her head back and smoked out in a screech. Riley got the feeling back in her body just in time for her to fall to the ground, hitting her head with a thud, passing out.


	5. Chapter 5

When she came to for the second time today, she found herself back in Dean’s hotel room. The shades weren’t pulled, but it was dark in there anyway. Night had fallen. Suddenly, all the aches and pains she couldn’t feel before came screaming to the surface. Sucking air through clenched teeth, she reached up to assess the damage. Her lip felt a bit puffy from where Dean clocked her, and a large section of her hair was matted with dried blood. With a groan, she rolled her sore body onto her side and she started briefly when she found herself face to face with Dean, his head propped up and leaning on his elbow on the opposite pillow. They examined each other for a long while before he finally piped up.

“I guess I pulled your ass out of the fire today, huh?”

Riley flashed him a derisive look, “Well, it was a bit touch and go there for a minute, wasn’t it?”

He let out a short huff, and gazed at her intensely. It was disquieting.

Not sure she wanted to know the answer, she sheepishly asked, “Were you really going to stab me with that thing?”

“If I had to, yes,” he admitted, “but I had a feeling that parasite would go running back to mommy with its tail between its legs.”

She giggled nervously, “Well, it’s good to know you have no qualms about offing me. That’s. Just. Great!”

“I’d rather you not have any doubts about how bad I’d be for you.”

“Umm….what are you going on about now?” she asked incredulously.

He smiled, “Well it’s not like I wouldn’t be up for shaking the sheets, I’m just saying that’s the only sweet spot you should have for me.”

Riley did not know how to respond to that. She was equal parts offended and intrigued. Say something! Don’t just lay here looking stupid! Instead, she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, trying to get the words out and failing. She finally settled on a petulant frown, which sort of hurt her split lip.

Dean noticed the subtle twinge of pain and placed his hand on her cheek, bringing his lips down on hers gently. “Sorry about that.”

Confusion washed over her again. He was always so hot and cold. Who was he really? Did he care for her or not? _Will the real Dean Winchester please stand up?_ She started drowning in his eyes again. They seemed to have a fire behind them, and it was making her squirm…in a good way…and she could feel the blood rush to color her cheeks.

He kissed her again, this time more forcefully, but she had to recoil.

“Dean,” she said in a whispered plea. She was too bruised for this.

He nodded, “Wrong place, wrong time.”

He looked at her for the briefest of moments, before rolling out of the bed and standing up. He stretched his arms up over his head and grabbed his jacket and bag off the chair she had sat in earlier. Then he looked back down at her form, which was now sitting up in the bed.

“The room’s paid for tonight. Stay here and get some rest. I’ve got to get out of this place. I’m over it.”

_He was leaving…now?_

Dean walked to the door and placed his hand on the knob, “Do yourself a favor? Don’t come looking for me.”

And with that word of warning, he left her behind.


End file.
